


Partners

by ijustliketowatch



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustliketowatch/pseuds/ijustliketowatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of the end of Season 2. As Slade threatens Team Arrow, Diggle and Felicity grow closer and they soon begin to question if their relationship is becoming something more than friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inebriated

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arringtondblake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arringtondblake/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a prompt from arringtondblake on Tumblr that said: "I would love to see a story where...Diggle and Felicity don't really notice how obvious that it is that they're getting closer" and specifically for this chapter: "Diggle taking care of an injured Felicity." I've always wanted to see someone do a big, romantic multi-chapter story for these characters and I finally just decided to do it myself and asked for prompts.
> 
> This chapter picks up with them right after the events of 2x14 "Time of Death."

"Can I have another one of those aspirins?" Felicity says sweetly before adding a "Please?" and giving John that cute smile she knows always works on him.

"I think you've had enough for one night," he says, despite the cuteness.

"Come on," she pleads. "It's the least you can do after ratting me out," she adds and tilts her head in the direction Oliver just went.

"Nice try, but no," he replies. She makes a pouty face and hunches over, looking almost comically miserable and he relents. "But I'll give you some if you promise not to take them until the morning."

"OK, promise," she says excitedly and jumps off the table she's sitting on.

"Hey, take it easy, will you?" he says, rushing to her. "You're going to regret that when you feel how sore your shoulder is in the morning."

"That's what the aspirins are for," she says with her usual brightness. She turns and practically skips toward her desk and John has to fight not to laugh.

Felicity tries to argue that she's OK to drive, but John refuses to let her operate a vehicle and insists on diving her with the promise of picking her up for work the next morning too since she'll have to leave her car at Verdant.

"Are you sure it'll be safe?" she asks, giving the red Mini Cooper a worried stare as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"The lot is filled with cameras, nobody is going to be stupid enough to steal a car from it," John assures. "Not even in the Glades."

"OK," she sighs, sounding unconvinced, and slumps in her seat.

"What you did tonight was really brave," he says to take her mind off it.

"Thanks," she says smugly.

"It was also very stupid."

"Hey!" she yelps and lightly slaps him on the arm. "What are you talking about?"

"You shouldn't have gone after Tockman alone," he chastises. "I know you wanted to prove your worth to the team—don't deny it," he says sharply when she makes a sound of protest. He pauses a second to make sure she won't try to argue again before continuing. "But I told you: you are irreplaceable. We wouldn't be able to do what we do without you. So promise me you'll never unnecessarily put yourself in danger again." He turns his attention from the road ahead a moment to fix her with a stern gaze and Felicity looks repentant, ashamed even.

"I promise," she says softly.

"Good," he replies.

He drops the issue then because she seems sufficiently chastened, but John still doesn't think Felicity grasps his full meaning, brilliant as she is. He can understand how, though. She doesn't know what Oliver was like before she came along.

John had spent months trying to convince him that the Hood had to stand for more than just violence and revenge, but the message hadn't seemed to sink in until it came from her. He was never quite sure why Oliver was more willing to listen to Felicity—though he had ideas. It could have been because the words were harder to ignore when they came from two people. Or maybe he gave her moral judgements more weight because she still had the idealistic innocence they'd both lost long ago. Or maybe it was because she was a pretty girl. A pretty girl who was interested.

John's often wondered how aware Oliver is of Felicity's feelings for him. Given that he had to tell him she was feeling left out and the rather clueless way he asked about her workout clothes earlier, John suspects their partner doesn't know. He's often wondered how their relationship would evolve given enough time. Though he doesn't know what will happen now that Oliver is back with Sara. He has no doubt that Felicity meant what she said about feeling somewhat less vital to the team because of the new addition, but watching how happy they appear to be can't be helping her state of mind either.

"This is me," Felicity says, interrupting his thoughts and pointing to her house.

"Yeah, I know," he replies and pulls to the curb. "I've picked you up before, remember?"

"Right, right, right," she says rapidly and waves her hand dismissively.

She flings the door open before he's even shut off the car's engine and he has to run to catch up to her as she walks to her door.

"Home sweet home," she recites as she steps inside. John follows and he's just closed the door behind them when Felicity unceremoniously flings off the shirt Oliver leant her. He turns away quickly, feeling heat flood his cheeks. Though he isn't sure why. This is not, in fact, the first time he's seen Felicity with her shirt off.

_It was after the Undertaking, a few months into Oliver's self-imposed exile on Lian-yu._

_It wasn't the first time she'd knocked on his door in the months since Oliver disappeared, nor was it the first time she appeared with that down-trodden, lonely look on her face that meant she needed to talk to someone. It was, however, the first time she appeared already a little drunk and with a fresh six-pack of beer in her hands._

_"Why aren't you answering your phone?" she had asked, sounding irritable. She stepped through the door without waiting for him to invite her in. "Oh, you're painting," she had said, answering her own question. "Well, sorry to break in on your relaxation time, but I thought you might have disappeared too when you didn't answer." She plopped down on his couch and John resigned himself then to the fact she would probably end up sleeping in that same spot._

_"Well, now that you see I haven't," he had started, shutting the door, "are you going to share those or are you going to drink them while I finish?" he had asked, pointing a thumb at his easel. Felicity's grip tightened defensively around the bottles a moment as she regarded him before she sighed and held one out to him. "Thanks," he had said and taken it._

_John went to the kitchen, set the bottle cap on the edge of the counter and then struck it with the heel of his hand, knocking the cap off. He moved to return to his painting when Felicity held out a bottle to him._

_"Do mine, do mine," she had said excitedly. He complied, smiling to himself at what a charming drunk she was turning out to be, and then grabbed her a bottle opener before returning to his work. Otherwise he would be forced to do the trick all night._

_"Where is that?" she had asked, leaning forward to study the canvas better._

_"Just somewhere I used to live," he had replied. Had Felicity been her usual, perceptive self, she might have noticed the regret that always crept Into his voice when it came to his failed marriage to Lyla. As it was, John was thankful for the alcohol she'd already consumed._

_"Not that I'm not always glad to see you," he had started, "but what did you need to tell me so bad?"_

_"Oh crap," she had said and smacked her forehead with her hand. "I found Oliver!" John set his brush down and turned to her, surprised, but before he could ask for details, she set in on a ramble. "That's what these are for," she had said and wiggled the bottle in her hand. "I went upstairs at Verdant to celebrate and I was calling you and calling you to join me, but then you didn't pick up so I took a cab—"_

_"That's a relief," he had muttered under his breath._

_"—And we stopped at a liquor store so I could get this before I came here," she had finished and stared at him expectantly._

_"So...where did you find him?" he had prompted._

_"Oh, right," she had replied, looking sheepish. "He went back to the island."_

_"The island?" he had repeated, confused, before it dawned on him. "He went back?" he had said, a little in awe. "Jesus," he had muttered and sat down on the couch next to her._

_"Yeah," she had agreed and took a sip of her beer._

_They sat in silence a moment before she spoke again._

_"Why do you think...," she had paused and John could see tears starting to form in her eyes. "Why would he go back there? I mean, he hasn't told us much about what happened there, but...just from those scars...I can't imagine why he'd ever want to."_

_"Because he's punishing himself," he had said and took another swig of beer._

_"Over Tommy, you mean?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"But he killed Malcolm. We saved half the city. That night wasn't a total loss."_

_"You know how he is, he doesn't see it that way. All he can think about is the fact that he couldn't save his friend." John finished off his beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table before turning to look at her._

_"But what about everyone else?" she had said, pulling her legs under her as she rearranged herself to face him. "Thea and Laurel are grieving Tommy too. QC is in its worst financial state since Robert Queen disappeared the first time. And what about the city? You've seen how bad things are out there. People could use the Hood right now. Is that just it? Is he never gonna put the uniform again? Are you and I just supposed to forget how much good we can do and let our lives go back to the way they were?"_

_She looked at him then, desperate to hear an answer he couldn't give and he realized her little bender hadn't just been about celebration. He reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, the way he'd seen Oliver do when trying to calm her down._

_"I don't think that's even possible," John said softly. "I don't know what Oliver's plans are, but I think you're right. He can't run away from his life here forever, even if he wants to. Maybe we should try to convince him to come back."_

_"You mean, go to the island?" she had said skeptically._

_"Yeah, maybe he just needs to remember he isn't alone," he had said. "And if that doesn't work, we can drag him back anyway," he had added with a playful smile. "The renovations you've done on the lair are bound to convince him."_

_Felicity sighed happily and let her head fall to rest on his hand where it still sat on her shoulder. She smiled contentedly, drunkenly, a moment before her brow furrowed and her head shot up._

_"How are you doing by the way?" she had asked. John frowned, slid his hand off her shoulder and crossed his arms in front of himself. The break up with Carly was still too fresh for him to want to talk about it much. "Come on," she had prodded and scooted closer to him, her legs pressing against his thigh. He sighed and then glanced at her warily before answering._

_"I'm OK," he had lied. She tipped her head to the side and pursed her lips, unconvinced. He sighed and dropped his arms—John should have known lying to her wouldn't work. "It's tough," he had said with a shrug. "You want something for so long and then when you finally get it, it turns out not to be what you hoped." He dropped his arms and leaned into the couch, feeling weary. "I wish I could forget that Deadshot's out there and just be with her, but I can't do that to Andy. Someone has to pay for what happened to him."_

_"You can't think like that," Felicity had said softly and reached out to take his hand. "Don't pull an Oliver," she had joked, "you can't let some vendetta be your whole life. You have to live too."_

_"I don't see you following that advice," he had muttered under his breath, unthinking. She pulled back, looking stung and he rushed to apologize. "Felicity, I'm sorry," he had said, holding her hand so she couldn't lean away, "I didn't mean—"_

_"No, you're right," she had said quickly, hunching her shoulders and looking away. "It's just hard, though, you know? Dating. It sucks, putting yourself out there over and over and being rejected every single time. The last guy I went on a date with didn't even call me back. Not that I was surprised. He couldn't wait to leave dinner. What would he want with a socially awkward, workaholic nerd like me anyway? Maybe I'm just not meant to be with someone."_

_"Felicity, stop that," John had said and leaned toward her. "You'll find someone. Any guy would be lucky to be with you."_

_"Thanks," she had said breathily, staring up at him._

_Something had shifted between them in that moment and whenever John looked back on it later, he knew the alcohol accounted for Felicity's behavior. He had no explanation for his own._

_She looked up at him, those pretty blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, mouth slightly open in question, and then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first—as if she feared he would reject her. But he kissed her back instead. Later, he would tell himself that it was because they were both lonely, that he was grieving losing Carly and she was working through her feelings for Oliver. Yet all he knew in the moment was that it felt good and he didn't want to stop. Which was why he pulled her into his lap so she was straddling his hips. He groaned when she ran her tongue across his lips, eagerly parting them and returning the favor._

_He wrapped an arm around her and tangled his other hand in her hair, his mind swimming from some mix of the alcohol and the pleasure of her nails scraping against the back of his neck. They broke apart when she ground against, him gasping at the sensation. He recovered quickly and pulled her shirt up and off. Her skin was smooth under his hands and he liked how small she felt as he held her, like some rare beautiful bird too curious to fear a predator. She slid her hands under his shirt as their lips crashed together again and it wasn't long before she pulled away again so she could pull it off him and throw it in the same direction as hers._

_Felicity had paused then. She ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, staring down at his body and panting for air, and then looked up into his eyes. He had seen the change in her expression then–shock and confusion quickly followed by embarrassment–and knew it was over even before she spoke._

_"We shouldn't do this," she had said, dropping her hands to rest on her thighs. "I'm sorry," she had added and then slid off him to stand._

_"It's OK," he had replied, not knowing what else to say as he watched her pick up her shirt and quickly pull it back on._

_"I'm gonna go," she had said and then collected her things, strenuously avoiding his gaze._

_"Let me call you a cab," he had said, hoping to try to make her feel more comfortable, that what had happened was no big deal._

_"It's fine, I've got it," she had replied, already moving briskly toward the door._

_"Felicity, wait," he had said and grabbed her arm. She stopped and look at him, her eyes seeming to beg him not to say anything, and he hadn't known what to say. He finally decided on, "are you going to be alright?"_

_"Yeah," she had said softy, though the waver in her voice belied the statement. But John had had no choice but to nod and watch her go._

_They had never spoken about what happened that night and they had brought Oliver back from Lian-yu a few days later. But John would think back on it occasionally, whenever he painted or when he would turn to look at Felicity and find her smiling at him a certain way._

He finds she's wearing that smile now when he tentatively turns his head to look at her.

Felicity stares at him for half a second before she quickly turns away and sets her eyes on the stairs to the second floor. She wobbles a bit as she kicks off her shoes and then moves to climb them—which is when she nearly topples over completely. Luckily, John reaches out to catch her before she can fall.

"My knight in shining armor," she says, looking back at him.

"Mm-hmm," he agrees, trying not to laugh. "Come on, let's get you to bed," he says and steps up behind her to make sure she makes it up the rest of the way.

"But I'm not that tired," she says, her drooping eyelids telling a different story.

"I know, but you need to rest anyway. That's the best thing for your shoulder right now."

"OK," she sighs and lets him gently push her up the stairs.

After much whining, a quickly-abandoned struggle to change Felicity into pajamas and standing by patiently after her insistence on brushing her teeth, John finally maneuvers her to bed. He pulls the covers up around her because she can't manage with her arm and then takes the bottle of "aspirins" out of his pocket.

"Not until morning," he says sternly. Her eyes flutter open and she nods before she snuggles into her pillows. John smiles to himself and turns to leave, but she draws his attention again when she speaks.

"Thanks for everything today," she says, smiling dreamily up at him in that same way as before. "You're the best," she adds and then reaches out with her good arm to squeeze his hand.

"I'd say you've got me beat," he replies and squeezes her hand, hoping she understands how much he means it.

"Obviously," she mutters and then rolls onto her side. John smiles and shakes his head and then turns to go.

He spends the rest of his night worrying about Felicity, but right before he finally falls asleep, he thinks of that smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I have plans to rewrite the end of season 2, but I'd love some feedback just to encourage me to keep going.


	2. Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, been a little busy the last month. I'm going to have start breaking with canon and this is the chapter I start doing that. Hope you enjoy.

When John steps up security for everyone associated with Oliver in the wake of Slade's appearance in Starling City, he and Oliver both agree he should personally see to Felicity's protection. It leaves him little time to rest, but they don't want to trust the task to anyone outside the team. Physically at least, she's the weakest player on the board.

They don't tell her at first, because they know she'll disagree, but John is unsurprised when Felicity appears that first morning with a hot cup of cocoa. He knows she is right when she reminds him that Slade would have no trouble killing her if he really wanted to, so, he stops coming after he listens to Oliver and Felicity argue it out. But he starts back up again once Lyla's infrequent visits to Starling City stop completely. Or he assumes they do, since she stops calling him after he finds out about her association with the Suicide Squad, effectively ending whatever relationship they were slowly rebuilding.

Felicity appears at 6:30 a.m. sharp each morning with a hot cup of cocoa, with marshmallows on subsequent visits. Except one day, she comes to the car shortly before midnight.

"You're a little early," he jokes when she opens the door and leans down to peer at him.

"This isn't about cocoa," she says seriously and John has to stifle a laugh. She sighs and gives him the kind of annoyed look she usually reserves for Oliver before telling him what this is about. "Listen, if you're going to insist on trying to protect me, can you at least come inside the house? You're starting to freak out my neighbors."

"Old lady next door?" he guesses, remembering the way the curtains in that house seem to move just about every hour.

"Yes," Felicity says with a scowl. "And I'd like to avoid having her lecturing me again about how persistence is not love and I shouldn't date a man who doesn't respect my boundaries and how there are plenty of fish in the sea for a pretty young girl like me."

"Technically speaking, that's good advice," John jokes and gets narrowed eyes and a withering stare in return.

"Are you coming in or not?" she asks after a moment. John considers refusing at first. He can keep a better lookout from outside, but he really is getting bored sitting in the darkness all night. And really, she was right, if Slade's going to attack her, it won't much matter where John is when it happens.

"Fine," he agrees.

"Good," she says with a decisive slam of the door, making John wonder if he ever really had a choice. He collects his few things and follows her inside and is pretty sure he sees the old woman next door frown at him through her curtains. Felicity leads him through the door and then turns to him after he shuts it behind them.

"So, I've got a guest room upstairs and there's the couch down here," she says. "Which is better?"

"I'll take the couch if that's alright," he replies, "anyone trying to get in will have to start on the ground floor anyway."

"OK. There's a bathroom over there," she says and points down the hall. "There should be towels in there already. You want a toothbrush or anything?"

"Toothbrush would be good," he replies.

"Right," she says back and then turns to walk up the stairs. John waits at the bottom, feeling slightly awkward until she returns. "I'm guessing you don't have any pajamas or anything to change into, right?" she asks.

"Nope." She hums in thought and frowns.

"I'd offer you something to wear, but I'm pretty sure you would need at least two of my shirts to cover you and I definitely don't have any pants that would fit you. We'll just have to pick something up from your apartment before we come back tomorrow night. I usually get up around 6 to get ready for work and make breakfast."

"I'll help," John offers.

"Oh, OK," she replies, sounding surprised. "It's not like it's that difficult, really. Usually I just drink enough coffee to feel like a human again while I make my way through a bowl of cereal."

John huffs a laugh and then replies with a simple, "Good night, Felicity."

"'Night, John," she replies and turns to go upstairs.

For the first hour or so, John tries to stay awake. That is his job, after all. But soon, the indistinct mutterings from the television start to lull him to sleep instead of keeping him awake. So, he decides to give in and stop fighting against how surprisingly comfortable Felicity's couch is.

He wakes up a few hours later to the distant sound of her alarm going off upstairs. He's thankful though, she would have mocked him relentlessly if she had caught him sleeping on the job.

By the time Felicity comes downstairs–in her robe and with her hair still damp from her shower–he has coffee made and is just dividing the eggs between two plates.

"Hope you don't mind scrambled," he says.

"No, that looks great," she says with a smile. "I'll get you a cup?" she asks, pointing to the coffee maker.

"Please."

John picks up their plates, brings them to the dining area just off the kitchen and sits down at the places he set earlier. Felicity follows a few moments later, a mug in each hand and a small carton of half-and-half tucked under her arm.

"Thanks," he says as she sets down his mug.

"Sure. You don't take sugar right?" she asks and tilts her head. "I didn't put any in yours."

"Nope," he replies. John has never much liked sugar in his coffee, just a bit of cream to cool it down and temper the bitter edge. Felicity, on the other hand, adds an almost alarming amount of both to her coffee. John smiles as he watches her fill her slightly empty cup with the contents of the carton and remembers her explaining that she, "hates the taste but needs the caffeine."

"Mmm," she hums in satisfaction when she first bites into the food. "I would have invited you in ages ago if I'd known you'd cook too."

"Part of the full-service bodyguard experience," he jokes and she laughs under her breath before she takes a sip of coffee.

When Felicity sets the mug on the table again, she fixes him with a stare similar to the one she gave him when she came to the car last night and he prepares himself for a lecture.

"Listen, John," she starts. "Not that I don't appreciate the breakfast and I'll admit having you around makes me feel a little less paranoid, but I thought we talked about this. If Slade wants to hurt me, he will. You sitting outside my house isn't going to make much of a difference. Not unless you really are turning into that lacrosse player. So what are you doing here?"

John inhales to explain and is surprised to realize he doesn't know what to say. They both know she's right even if Oliver won't admit it. He does know, however, that he prefers spending his nights making sure Felicity is safe to being in his apartment.

"Is it because of Lyla?" she prompts. John can't help but smile at that; he forgets sometimes how perceptive she is. He should have known simply telling her and Oliver a vague story about being needed for a mission with ARGUS wouldn't be enough to keep her from getting curious. "You never said what happened, not that you have to," she adds quickly. "It's just you've seemed kind of down since then and you haven't taken any of your usual nights off to...see her," she finishes, cheeks coloring slightly.

John pokes at the food on his plate a moment, considering what he should say before he sighs and looks up at her.

"You remember the night Moira shot Oliver, when he brought you to the lair for the first time?" he asks.

"How could I forget?" she replies and gets a sort of dazed look a moment. The corner of his mouth turns up in a mirthless smile.

"Do you remember what I told you about what happened overseas? About the boy I killed?" She nods, her brow furrowing. "The man I saved, the government took him in, traded his survival for the information he could give, despite everything he'd done. And he'd continued doing it, of course." He stabs the food on his plate a little roughly and takes a bite only to realize he doesn't have much of an appetite anymore. He sets his fork down and shoves the plate away.

"What does this have to do with Lyla and ARGUS?" Felicity prods, gentle but insistent.

"He appeared to go legitimate, but ARGUS found out he was involved in chemical weapons," John explains and her eyebrows shoot up. "They wanted someone he trusted, me," he says and points at himself, "to infiltrate and find out for sure."

"So that's what you two were doing," she suggests.

"Us and the Suicide Squad," he says bitterly.

"The what?"

"It's a team headed by Amanda Waller. Deadshot is on it," he adds and watches Felicity's face as she registers that information.

"Oh, John," she says and reaches out to place a hand on his arm. He gives her a tight smile before he goes on.

"Working with him wasn't what I expected, " he admits, picking up his abandoned fork to push his food thoughtfully around his plate. "I felt sorry for him," John says, still shocked by it. "Despite everything he's done, he doesn't deserve to have having to live with a bomb in his head."

"What?!" Felicity yelps, jumping in her seat.

"That's how Waller keeps her little band criminals in line," he says before adding, "though I don't know Lyla's excuse."

"What do you mean?"

"She works with them," he explains, letting his fork clatter onto his plate again. "And she's not even being forced to."

"So that's what you guys fought about?" she asks tentatively. "That she's working with Deadshot and didn't tell you?"

"No, it's because she's using the excuse of following orders to justify what they're doing," he says, voice rising. "It's barely legal and certainly not right."

Felicity eyes him a moment and then purses her lips in a frown.

"Are we really that different?" she asks softly after a moment.

"What do you mean?" John asks, confused.

"Team Arrow isn't exactly made up of the most law-abiding citizens, Digg," she argues.

"Yeah, but we're trying to help people," he replies and leans toward her, begging her to understand. "I can't be with someone who compromises in the wrong way," he explains and sits back on the couch, staring thoughtfully into space.

Felicity is silent a moment and then he suddenly feels her take his hand in hers.

"Are you sure you've made the right choice here, John?" she asks sincerely. "You know how much trouble I had with Oliver killing at the beginning and I don't know if I'd still be here if he hadn't stopped." Felicity pauses and seems to steel herself, as if she's worried how he'll take what she's about to say. "But I don't think I've seen you this sad since you ended things with Carly. Maybe this is even worse." She reaches out and takes his hand. "You clearly care about Lyla," she continues, "maybe your happiness is more important than the moral high ground this time."

John looks down at their hands and considers her words a few moments before he looks up.

"Do you remember what else I told you that first night you came to Verdant, about why I started working with Oliver?" he asks.

Felicity sits back and frowns in concentration a moment before she answers.

"You told me that you were trying to atone for the things you'd done," she says softly.

"Right," he confirms. "I know I'm doing something good by helping him protect this city, now more than ever. Even if we're breaking the law, I know it's for the greater good. As much as I love Lyla and wish we could try again, she's going to have to keep doing the wrong thing to follow orders. I don't want to be that kind of person anymore and I can't be with someone who is."

Felicity stares at him a moment, giving him that sympathetic half-smile she often gives Oliver when she wants to help him but knows she can't.

"You are such an idealist," she teases in that sweet way that never breeds hurt.

"I get it from you," he teases back and smiles when she starts in surprise.

"What do you mean?" she asks and tilts her head.

"Your morality. It's always been so clear-cut. You don't let any of us make easy justifications. I admire that." Felicity blushes and turns her eyes away and John has the errant thought that it's actually quite criminal that she can look so lovely at this hour.

"Oh my God, is it really that late?!" she says with a start when her eyes land on the digital clock on her stove. "We've got to hurry," she say and stands, collecting their plates.

"It's OK," John says, taking them from her hands. "I'll clean up. You go finish getting ready."

"Thanks," Felicity replies and then rushes out of the room.

Breakfast becomes a ritual between them. Sometimes Felicity helps John cook, but he's content to do it by himself. Her gasps of delight each time she comes down the stairs and sees whatever elaborate meal he's decided to make that morning become their own reward. Lunch and dinner also become a thing between them, though that was always the case. Except they start to get better at predicting what the other one wants.

It's when they just look over at each other one night in the lair and, without preamble, say "Chinese" in unison that Sara realizes that something is shifting between them.

So she decides to ask Felicity about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and please leave a review. Hopefully next chapter won't take as long.


	3. Team Dynamics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, quick update on this one. This is the first chapter not from Diggle's POV, but not the last. Enjoy and maybe leave some feedback if you do.

"So, what's going on between you and Diggle?" Sara asks Felicity one night while they're alone in the lair.

"What?" Felicity replies, completely caught off guard.

"Come on," she pleads, moving around the desk to stand next to her. "Don't deny it. You two have been acting...different lately. So what's going on?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Felicity says, staring at her in wide-eyed confusion.

"Oh, really?" Sara says drily. "So the fact that he's basically living with you doesn't mean anything?"

"That's for my protection," she argues, crossing her arms and swiveling in her chair to better look at her.

"I thought you were strictly against having a bodyguard," she counters, crossing her arms right back.

"Well, I still am, but John kept showing up. So I let him stay."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Well, yeah," Felicity replies. "I mean, sure, it's nice having him around, but it's just a...friendly thing."

"Mmhmm," Sara replies, skeptical. "And the fact that you two have basically started finishing each other's sentences is just a friendly thing too?"

"What are you talking about?" Felicity replies, tilting her head and looking unsure for the first time.

"You two are practically on the same wavelength," Sara says and sits down on the edge of Felicity's desk. "Look at the way you decided on what food to order tonight. It's like this cute guessing game between you two."

"We eat a lot of meals together," she says defensively, "it keeps it interesting."

"OK, well, you seem to agree about everything else too lately. You've both been pushing Oliver to focus on more than just Slade. And you both told me to ignore him and go after Laurel when Helena had her. And what was that conversation you two had after we first figured out she was back in town? Looked pretty important."

"Eavesdrop much?" Felicity half-jokes.

"Whatever," Sara says with a dismissive wave. "What were you guys talking about?"

"He just wanted to make sure I was alright," Felicity says with a shrug. "Helena took me hostage too the last time she was here. But he was just being a friend, Sara," she argues, a little exasperated. "He's always been attentive, to everyone, not just me."

"And you don't find that attractive?" she suggests, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but this is Diggle we're talking about. We're just partners."

"Are you sure? Maybe you're becoming something else," Sara suggests. Felicity opens her mouth to argue, but the door to the lair opens and Oliver and Diggle walk in with dinner and Roy appears from the showers in the back. Felicity blushes at the sight of Diggle and the conversation ends there.

Still, Sara notices Felicity occasionally staring at him the rest of the night, forehead crinkled as it always is when she's thinking through a problem. She doesn't get to press the issue because all other considerations are put on the back burner when they find out Slade took Thea. Still, she knows the conversation had an effect by how upset Felicity gets when Roy throws Diggle onto a table, arm twisted behind his back. She stares at him, with a sort of desperate, terrified look on her face until he finally releases him. She goes to him as soon as Roy leaves and when she looks up at Sara a moment later, a little dazed but clearly grateful, Sara only nods in acknowledgement.

She catches Oliver staring at them as they talk–Felicity asking for reassurance that Diggle is alright and him giving it–and wonders if Oliver actually listened to her and spoke to him as well. She doesn't have the chance to ask until much later, after Thea returns and after she tells Oliver she doesn't trust him anymore. Sara asks him in an attempt to make him feel better, get his mind off everything by talking about something lighter. But it seems to have the opposite effect.

"It didn't go so well," he says, scratching the back of his head and looking away from her.

"What do you mean?" Sara asks. "Did he think it was a ridiculous idea too?"

"Not exactly," he replies with a grimace.

_Oliver and Diggle's conversation had taken place at exactly the same moment as Sara and Felicity's. They had left the lair to pick up dinner before Oliver had to go to his mother's debate with Sebastian Blood and he had decided it was as good a time as any to bring it up._

_"So how is Felicity's protection going?" he started, hoping easing into the discussion might make him feel less strange about having it in the first place._

_"She's finally stopped trying to convince me to stop coming," he said, glancing at Oliver through the rear view mirror to where he sat in the back seat of the car. "I had to start staying in the house at night. Her neighbors were getting a little antsy with me sitting out there every night. But so far I've refused the guest room because that would defeat the purpose. Though I'm starting to rethink that since her living room couch isn't that comfortable."_

_"And you don't mind not being able to stay in your apartment?"_

_"I miss it every once in awhile, sure, but we agreed. She needs the protection and I'm the best person for the job."_

_"And that's the only reason?" Oliver ventured, cringing slightly at the tactlessness._

_"Of course" Digg said, raising an eyebrow at him in the mirror._

_"I just thought maybe there might be another reason," he said, trying to sound casual._

_"What the hell are you talking about, man?" Digg asked._

_"Well, you have to admit you two have been getting pretty close," he replied._

_"Felicity and I are friends. Where is this coming from, Oliver?"_

_"It's hard not to notice something's changed between you," he replied, crossing his arms._

_"Yeah right," he said sarcastically. "So you're saying you noticed something and not maybe, Sara?"_

_"Don't change the subject," he fired back, hating how sharp Digg is sometimes. "Is something going on between you?"_

_"No, Oliver," he said, voice flinty. "But if there were, I don't see how it would be any of your business."_

_"We're a team, I want to make sure neither of you gets hurt."_

_"You sure it's not something else?"_

_"What's that supposed to mean?" Oliver asked, taken aback._

_"Would you like a reminder about the way you acted when Barry Allen was in town?" Diggle asked, narrowing his eyes at Oliver in the mirror. "Maybe you should ask yourself why you always get so protective of her."_

_"I'm with Sara," Oliver said firmly, anger coloring his tone._

_"Yeah, I know," Diggle snapped. "It's hard to forget when I have to see the look on Felicity's face every time you two are together. Though I doubt you've noticed considering you had to be told she was feeling left out a few weeks ago. So forgive me for not trusting your skills of observation on this one." Oliver flinched at that._

_The discussion ends there and they spent the rest of the ride quietly stewing._

"You know he's wrong, right?" Oliver says to Sara now. "I don't feel that way about Felicity. I care about you."

"I know," she replies and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him toward her. But that isn't entirely true. Sara has often wondered at the connection between them. She's known Oliver a long time and she's never seen him act with anyone else the way he does with Felicity—his protectiveness, his attention, the way he listens to her. She remembers the twinge of something akin to jealousy she felt earlier when Felicity's opinion was the only one that mattered to him in deciding to listen to Isabel Rochev's information on Thea's location.

Sara doesn't bring any of that up now, though. The day has been hard enough without adding this discussion to it.


	4. Maybe She Could

The idea is totally ridiculous. Felicity and John are just friends. Close friends, sure, but still nothing more than that. At least, that's what she's always thought. And then Sara put the idea of something more in her head and she hasn't been able to get it out of her mind.

It's not like she can deny how close they've gotten since he basically started living with her.

It struck her most forcefully one night as they made dinner. John was a surprisingly adept cook and glad to do all the work, but she had eventually felt bad about her only contribution being washing the dishes after when that mostly consisted of throwing them in the dishwasher.

They decided what to make (which wasn't so much a decision as their uncanny habit of always wanting the same thing), and then set to work. It was almost disturbingly domestic. They moved like a well-oiled machine, only occasionally exchanging a word or two about spices and quantities of ingredients but otherwise perfectly content to work in comfortable silence.

It's how they are around each other all the time: comfortable. Felicity has always thought of John as a calming, steady presence on their team. He's dependable, strong (physically and emotionally), with a sense of right that rivals hers. Their lives are so dangerous and unpredictable, but him just being there always reassures her that everything will be OK.

But is that the same as love? Or attraction even? She isn't sure.

She is, however, sure that she feels that way about Oliver. Despite his relationship with Sara, her own flirtation with Barry and only vague suggestions that Oliver could possibly reciprocate, her long-held crush on him is surprisingly, obnoxiously persistent. She has little hope that anything will ever happen between them, but it's always there, bubbling beneath the surface and making her wonder.

There are days she resents it, like with Barry. He was sweet and interested, if a little far, but she hadn't realized how nice it would be to have him until after his accident. She promised herself that she wouldn't miss her chance again if–no–when he woke up. But after her conversation with Sara, she can't help but wonder if she is repeating the same mistake with John—if her focus on her feelings for Oliver is blinding her to anything else.

The small thrill of excitement she feels when John finally agrees to move into the guest room upstairs from the living room couch makes her wonder even more. Still, she doesn't bother or, perhaps, avoids analyzing that feeling because there simply isn't the time. She can sort them out once they deal with Slade. At least that was the plan until Slade himself makes that impossible.

When they return to the lair one night and find him waiting for them, she barely has time to realize what's happening before Oliver grabs her and flings them both over the banister. She watches in terror as Slade catches Sara by the throat and throws her across the room, but nearly goes into a full-on panic when John charges at Slade and empties his clip to no avail. She wants to run to him then–stopped only by her fear–and barely notices Oliver's fight with Slade because she's so desperate to see if John is alright.

Once she turns the lights on again, she runs straight to him, telling herself later that she saw Sara stirring out of her periphery and had known she would check on Oliver.

"Are you OK?" she asks, cradling his head in her hand and helping him sit up.

"I'm fine," he grunts.

"What were you thinking?" she snaps, pushing him on the chest so hard that he almost falls back again. "You knew that wasn't going to work."

"Worth a try," he grumbles, looking surprised at her reaction. He tries to push himself up again and grimaces at the glass of the case Slade threw him through cutting into his hand. Felicity gives him a bashful look, stands and then reaches out her hand to help him up. He gives her a sidelong glance and then accepts.

It's as she watches him walk off to check on their partners that Felicity suddenly realizes that maybe her feelings for Oliver and John aren't so different. The knot still unraveling in her stomach is identical to the one she felt when Oliver was injured a few months back and they had to decide whether to let Barry into their world in order to save him. It's surprising and confusing and she doesn't understand why she wasn't as worried for Oliver too this time.

Felicity feels herself being different around John after that, but is helpless to stop herself. She's rambly and nervous in a way she's never been with him. She thinks it escapes his notice, but of course it doesn't. He knows her too well.

"You OK?" he asks as they drive to the Star Labs warehouse in downtown Starling City.

"What? Yeah, why?" she replies too quickly, turning to look straight ahead when she realizes she was staring at him. Sitting in the front seat was a bad idea.

"You've just been a little jumpy lately," he says, "since Slade showed up at the lair."

"I'm just worried someone's going to get hurt," she lies, thankful to have a legitimate-sounding excuse. "He could have killed us—though it's kind of scarier that he chose not to. And I can't even imagine what could've happened to Cisco and Caitlin if...." She stops there, shivering instead of completing the thought aloud. She freezes when she feels John's hand wrap around hers, hoping he doesn't feel the way her heartbeat picks up.

"But nothing did happen," he says firmly. "We're going to find a way to stop Slade," he reassures and then gives her hand one last squeeze before letting go.

She can't decide if she prefers it that way.

They don't get as much out of Caitlin and Cisco as they hoped. Instead, she gets to have her hopes of circumventing the Oliver-John question through Barry dashed and learns that someone named Iris is waiting for him to wake up too.

"That's just swell," she says a little bitterly. "Barry's in a coma and he's already moved on."

John gives her a small, encouraging smile, but his forehead also furrows in concern. The lines become deeper the quieter and more sullen she gets as they drive back to the lair until he finally speaks.

"So, you never met an Iris during all that time you spent in Central City?" he asks.

"Nope," she replies, shaking her head. "We must have missed each other during visiting hours. Would have saved me some train tickets if we had met," she adds under her breath. John gives her an encouraging smile and she sighs. "I guess he might have mentioned her once—though not by name. Just before the accident, he called me and said something about knowing what it's like to want somebody who doesn't want you back. Maybe that's not a problem for him anymore." She shrugs and then turns to stare out the window, resting her chin on her fist.

There's silence a moment as she swings between feeling sorry for herself and feeling stupid for feeling that way when there are worse things going on in their lives right now.

"I'm just so tired of falling for people who are still stuck on someone else," she grumbles. "How am I supposed to compete with history?"

"You'll find someone," John says softly, encouragingly. "You're amazing, Felicity, and when you finally find someone who's available and who you want back, he's gonna be one lucky bastard."

"Thanks," she says, blushing. She looks over at him and he gives her that small, sympathetic smile that always makes her feel better. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be in love with John Diggle.

"You know," he says, turning his eyes back to the road, "I think you might already have an admirer in that other scientist. What's his name?"

"Cisco?" she asks a little incredulously.

"Yeah, him. You two seems to have fun flirting," he teases.

"That was to try to get information," she says, breathing a laugh.

"So what? That was the highlight of that kid's day," he jokes, smiling slyly at her.

"Stop it," she says, lightly slapping his arm. "I'm done with cute scientists in faraway cities," she says in mock haughtiness.

"Oh really?" John asks.

"Yep, I've gotta start looking closer to home," Felicity replies and manages to hide her surprise when she realizes she just might mean him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and, as always, leave some feedback if you don't mind.


	5. The Oliver Problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than I thought it would be, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. The remaining few chapters of this fic are not going to follow the divisions of the last three episodes of the season and this one covers only about half of "City of Blood."

She can't mean him. John knows Felicity must mean Oliver or generally or anything else. He knows it. But there's something about the way she looks at him after that makes him wonder if she could really be interested.

He's spent a lot of his time recently wondering if she could. Ever since Oliver, Captain Oblivious, asked him if something were going on between them. There wasn't of course, though he'll admit he can understand how Oliver–well, Sara via Oliver really–could confuse the situation. Their relationship is platonic, but there are moments when it feels very much like when he and Layla lived together during their marriage—except without the tension. It's easy, comfortable, and it's left him more than a little confused.

It's not as if he's totally averse to the idea. Felicity is certainly beautiful and he's thought more and more about that night in his apartment while Oliver was in Lian Yu in recent days, but it's more than that. There's a level of understanding between them that he can't remember sharing with anyone else before. They're on the same wavelength, one that's different even from Oliver or Sara or Roy. Despite how different their pasts are, they agree about how Oliver should go about saving Starling City, about what's right.

Not that there aren't differences too.

There's the age gap for one. It's a little closer to a decade than he likes. He's on the road to middle age while she's still barely out of her youth. Though he will admit she seems much more mature than her years. Oliver may be her senior, but he seems younger. He can't imagine Felicity shirking responsibilities as often as their vigilante leader does.

Though John knows the real reason he's hesitant.

Felicity has feelings for Oliver, plain and simple. And as time has gone on, John has wondered if they aren't on an inevitable march toward each other. Flirtation has always been an element of their interactions, but something else has developed—an understanding, a deeper connection that John hasn't seen Oliver form with anyone else. Not even with Sara. With her gone, he wonders if it's not just a matter of time between them.

He only becomes more convinced of that eventuality watching Felicity's reaction to Moira's death.

"I don't even know why I'm crying," she says at the wake, sniffling into the handkerchief he's just handed her. "I didn't even like Moira," she adds and he can't help but smile to himself as she rambles a bit, rightfully calling Moira "diabolical."

"You're not crying for her, Felicity, you're crying for Oliver," he assures her. She seems surprised by that truth and the realization seems to make her more desperate to find Oliver but, for once, there seem to be limits to what even she can do. And the fact that she can't find a trace of Sara either doesn't help her mindset.

"Digg, people don't just disappear like this unless..." she says.

"Don't go there, Felicity," he says firmly.

"What if she is..." she starts, "what if Oliver is..." she continues, unable to complete that thought either. "Maybe the reason we can't find him—”

"He's alive, Felicity," he cuts her off. But he can't be sure and he's beginning to have doubts too.

John had sworn not to have anything more to do with ARGUS after his last encounter, but desperate times call for desperate measures. At least Felicity's excitement over the tech softens the sting of Amanda Waller's smug superiority when they come to her asking for information on Oliver's whereabouts. They're both caught off guard when she tell them that Oliver has been hiding at a second lair they've never heard about.

"How long do you think he's had it?" Felicity asks as they drive to its location.

"Probably since the beginning," he guesses. She nods and then frowns into space a moment before speaking again.

"Why did he never tell us about it though?" she asks softly, turning to him with a sort of hurt expression.

"I don't know," he admits, wishing he had a better answer for her. She sighs and brings her hand to her face, pushing up her glasses to rub her eyes.

"Every time I think I know where we stand with him, something happens and I realize we don't know anything," she says, sounding defeated. She leans back in her seat, looking miserable, and John takes one hand off the steering wheel to gently wrap it around hers a moment.

"It's not because he doesn't trust us," he assures her. "Oliver went through something horrible those five years. And I think he's still got a lot of guilt about what happened during them. We just have to give him time." Felicity smiles at him and lightly squeezes his hand and John realizes how nice it feels, wondering how nice it would be to be able to reach out and do this any time.

He gets to experience that same feeling a little later as he reaches out to help Felicity down the stairs at the secret lair and she jokingly mutters, "my knight in shining armor,"in gratitude.

They find Oliver there, as Waller said they would and John isn't surprised to see him sitting off in a corner, almost curled up and staring off into space. He seems slightly hostile that they've found him at first, but relents after a moment.

"I left for the cemetery," he says, pausing a moment, "but I ended up here."

"And here is?" Felicity asks.

"Here was a secondary facility in case the foundry was compromised," he replies and John turns to give Felicity a pointed look. "But it became somewhere that I could just go and...be alone." He pauses a moment before speaking again. "She's dead because of me," he a says and then struggles to stand, looking at them for the first time since they walked in. "Five years ago, I could have cured Slade and that would have prevented all of this.And now, all the people left that I care about, we are all in his crosshairs. It ends tonight."

"How?" Felicity asks.

"I turn myself over to Slade," Oliver replies, picking up his jacket off the ground. "I end this vendetta."

"Oliver, you think this ends with you turning yourself over to Slade?" John asks incredulously, stepping toward him.

"Yes, I do. After she was gone, he told me that one more person had to die and then it would end," he struggles to say and John doesn't think he's ever seen Oliver this hopeless. "This ends, for Slade, when he kills me."

"I don't accept that," Felicity cuts in, blocking Oliver's way to the door. "And you shouldn't either. You can't just _accept_ things, Oliver," she says, emotion filling her tone. "If I'd accepted my life, I would be a cocktail waitress in Vegas like my mother and I never would have gone to college and I never would have moved a thousand miles away to work at Queen Consolidated and I never would have believed some crazy guy in a hood when he told me I could be more than just some IT girl." She grips his hand a moment in hers and stares at him pleadingly. "Please don't do this," she says. He sighs and shifts on his feet before speaking.

"Felicity," he says softly, "someone once told me that the essence of heroism is to die so that others can live."

"It's not that simple, Oliver," John argues.

"Yes, it is," Oliver cuts him off. "Slade's whole plan was to take everything from me. He did. He wins." He pauses a second, looking resigned. "All that's left is for me to do is die," he finishes and then steps around Felicity.

"No, there has to be another way," she says desperately. Oliver turns to her, but instead of saying anything, he studies her face a moment. And for a second, John thinks that just might stop him, that seeing her so sad will change his mind. But then, he sighs, says, "there isn't," and turns away, not letting go of her hand until he's walked too far away.

And as selfish as the thought is, John can't help but think that if Oliver does survive this, he would never be able to compete with the connection between Oliver and Felicity. Whatever is between them needs to play out. Otherwise, he will always wonder if she settled for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I appreciate any and all feedback.


	6. Laurel

"We can't let him do this," Felicity says A few moments after Oliver leaves. "He has to know this isn't going to change anything. John frowns and rubs his face, looking as frustrated as she feels.

"I'm sure he does," he replies and shrugs helplessly. "But he's lost hope. He can't see a reason to fight anymore."

Felicity opens her mouth to speak again when the sound of John's phone ringing interrupts her. He frowns and looks at the screen and seems surprised by the name he reads on it. She's about to ask him why when he taps the phone and brings it to his ear.

"Ms. Lance," he says formally and Felicity guesses he must mean Laurel because she's definitely never heard him call Sara that, "is everything alright?" He listens a moment and then says, "I'm not with—" before she seems to cut him off. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he glances at Felicity a moment before giving his full attention to what Laurel is saying. Felicity waits, wondering why it has John looking so determined, and is surprised when he speaks again and says, "we'll meet you at Verdant.

"What did she say?" Felicity asks.

"That she knows Oliver is the Arrow," he says without preamble and Felicity is too shocked to respond before he adds, "and she has proof that Sebastian Blood is working with Slade and that's why he killed Moira—so he could be mayor." She stares at him, stunned a moment and unsure which information is more shocking before she realizes what the information on Blood could mean.

"We have to tell him, Digg," she says eagerly. "If that doesn't make him want to fight again, then nothing will." He nods and strides toward the door and she follows him, glad to leave Oliver's back-up lair.

Felicity couldn't tell what she didn't like about it at first, but it all became clear the moment Oliver told them he frequently came there to be alone, or more accurately, to get away from them. It is devoid of any trace of the team they've built together—no glass cases, no fancy equipment, none of John's weaponry, not a single computer screen. She tries not to take it personally, but it's hard to ignore that the differences can be summed up by the fact that nothing she's changed since the Undertaking made it here.

Felicity loves the foundry. She feels more at home there than in her own house sometimes. She thought Oliver felt that way too, or at least felt comfortable there in a way he couldn't anywhere else. But to see that he escapes to a place that is so stark and lonely is just a painful reminder of how much he isolates himself, how there will always be a distance between him and everyone else. And she's beginning to wonder if he will ever allow himself to eliminate that distance, if she ever has a chance of really knowing him, if she could ever really be with him without constantly wondering what he's hiding.

"Damn it," John swears under his breath when they're standing outside again. "He's already gone," he adds, turning from searching the street to look at her.

"I can find him this time," she says and moves toward the car. "Using facial recognition to track his movements should be easier now that I've got his starting point."

They head back to Verdant and find Laurel there waiting for them. She's confused when only the two of them appear and Felicity lets John explain, rushing past in eagerness to find out where Oliver is going before he can turn himself over.

But she doesn't have as much luck as she expects. She can track him for the first few minutes after he leaves the secondary lair, but Oliver seems to have a preternatural ability to evade cameras when he wants to and she quickly loses track of him. She searches fruitlessly, growing more and more worried as time goes on and is just beginning to lose hope when–for whatever reason–Oliver turns on his phone again.

"He's at the Queen mansion," she says excitedly. John grabs his jacket and the tranq gun and starts running toward the door.

"Call me if he moves," he yells over his shoulder. He's just about through the door when she stops him.

"Wait!" she calls out. "It looks like he's leaving," she says, switching over to the tracking program on her tablet as she stands to follow him and watching the dot that represents Oliver slowly moving away from the mansion.

"Where do you think he's going?" Laurel asks, leaning over to stare at the screen too.

"I don't know," Felicity admits, "but wherever it is, it's probably where he's going to give himself up to Slade."

"Should I try to intercept him?" John yells down.

"I think we should wait to see where he's going," Felicity suggests. "If he realizes we're following him, he might disappear again and we won't get a chance to stop him."

The three of them stand there in tense silence as Oliver travels away from the Queen Mansion and into Starling City proper and Felicity jumps when Laurel suddenly gasps.

"I know where he's going," Laurel says. "The marina," she says excitedly.

"How do you know?" Felicity asks.

"It's where the Queen's Gambit launched from," she says, pointing to the docks on the map. "This started when he took off on that boat. If he wants to end this, I think that's where he'll do it." That reasoning seems as good as any, but something about Laurel's sureness irks Felicity.

"We'll head there and change course if it looks like he's heading somewhere else," John says, grabbing Felicity's arm to take her with him.

"I'm coming with you," Laurel says firmly. "If he realizes you're after him, I doubt he'll stop to listen unless I'm with you." They can't argue with that reasoning and the three of them quickly set off in the direction of the marina.

Laurel's hunch happens to be right and they find Oliver standing at the end of a dock and, luckily, he's either too distracted or too resigned to dying to notice them. They're lucky to have Laurel with them because Oliver really is heavy and Felicity isn't sure how they would have maneuvered him into the van and back to the lair if she weren't.

He's angry when he first wakes up, thinking she and John defied his wishes, but then he sees Laurel. He seems worried that Slade has spoken to her and even more so when she says he told her Oliver's secret, but that doesn't seem to make him any less resigned to dying.

"Will you give us a moment?" Laurel asks and Felicity reluctantly steps away and John follows.

"You think it'll work?" she says lowly when they're out of hearing distance.

"I hope so," John says with a sigh, sounding weary. "He's always been easier to convince where she's concerned."

"Yeah," Felicity says, thinking she's succeeded in keeping the bitterness out of her voice until she looks over and finds John giving her a sympathetic look. She shrugs and he reaches out and grabs her hand a moment, squeezing it comfortingly.

Laurel does eventually convince Oliver and while Felicity tells herself that avenging his mother is finally what convinces Oliver to fight again, she can't help but wonder if the news about Sebastian Blood would have been as effective coming from someone else—even Sara. Laurel knows him in a way nobody else seems to and he listens to her in a way unlike anyone else. Felicity wonders if any woman who ended up with him wouldn't always be competing with Laurel in some way, whether he compared them consciously or not. It sounds exhausting and she wonders if that's why Sara left or even if she herself could live like that.

Though Felicity gets a reminder of the importance of her position in Oliver's life later–after she's politely tortured information out of Blood's bodyguard and John, Oliver and she are leaving to find Slade–when he outright refuses to let Laurel come with them.

"This started with the three of us," he says firmly. "It's time we got back to that."

She, of course, doesn't listen and follows them anyway, which Felicity respects because that's exactly what she would do too. And it wouldn't be so much of a problem except things go to hell in a hand basket—as they always do.

Cisco calls her to say they've developed a mirakuru anti-serum just as John blows the charges and Felicity is screaming into the comms trying to make sure Oliver made it though when she hears a yelp of pain and a familiar voice in her ear.

"You killed me," Isabel Rochev says, "let me return the favor." She starts the van immediately and hurtles toward John's location, hoping she can get there in time to help him, all other concerns forgotten. She finds Isabel standing over John with swords ready, saying something about wanting to kill Felicity that sends a chill down her spine and she doesn't even have to consider what she should do: she slams the gas pedal to the floor and hits her at full speed.

"I really thought the airbags were gonna go off," she mutters to herself, making a mental note to check out safer vans when the whole world isn't basically on fire. She feels bad about maybe killing Isabel for a second, right until she stands up like some sort of terminator and Felicity is all for the idea of hitting her again.

John tells her to drive away instead and they meet up with Oliver and Laurel on a street not far. She's surprised Laurel can convince him to let her go to the precinct unattended, but she's too worried about finding the Star Labs guy with the serum to dwell on it too much. Though Oliver still does, of course.

"I should have gone with Laurel, made sure she got to the precinct," he grumbles.

"She'll be with her father, she'll be fine," she assures, but he gives her a skeptical look anyway. "She will, Oliver," she says again with more conviction.

Though she soon realizes Laurel isn't the one they should worry about.

"Floor it!" Oliver yells when they spot the men in the masks running toward them. John does, but it doesn't matter. Felicity knows things are about to go very wrong when one of Slade's soldiers pushes a car into their path—the van can't maneuver that well and they're moving too fast to avoid it.

"Hold on!" John yells a second before they go flying. Her last thought before she's knocked out is that she hopes he'll be OK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Not much left in this fic and I'm hoping to try to finish it before the new season starts. Reviews would greatly help in pushing me to write faster. ;)


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